The Sin of Surviving
by Moonsong
Summary: Schuldich interrupts a private moment between Aya and his sister.


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SPOILERS FOR AYA-CHAN'S PAST  
BASED ON "AN ASSASSIN AND WHITE SHAMAN" MANGA VOL. 1  
  
  
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The Sin of Surviving  
By Moonsong  
tsukinouta@yahoo.com  
  
  
Tick.  
  
Tick.  
  
Tick.  
  
Tick.  
  
That noise... it's ringing... so loud... STOP!  
  
Silence.   
  
No sound- except that ticking that is fast becoming annoying. I   
open my eyes- to darkness. Eternal black had swallowed me and I   
couldn't see an end to it.  
  
Where am I? Why is it so dark?  
  
Squelching the urge to panic, I shut my already closed eyes and   
try to remember. The festival. Yes! I had been shopping... and   
Ran... RAN!  
  
Involuntarily, I turn my head, searching for him worriedly.   
Ran... where are you? I'm afraid, oniichan... so afraid...  
  
--:--  
  
"Aya..."   
  
Your face- it looks so pale against already white sheets. White.   
Everything in here is white. Except your hair- and your face   
which becomes paler and paler each time I visit.   
  
I glance over to the bright bouquet I had so recently arranged in   
a vase. A colorful array of flowers- carnations, snapdragons,   
even a rose or two- should brighten up this room a bit, don't you   
think?  
  
Except they don't. Even their cheerful presence can't take the   
chill from this room. Only one thing can do that. And it doesn't   
look like you're going to wake up anytime soon.  
  
Biting my lip, I settle into the familiar lumpy chair and take   
your lifeless hand. Within these pristine walls, I can let my   
barriers down. Only here- surrounded by cold steel, a vase of   
color, and your innocent presence- can I leave behind the   
nightmares that hover on the fringes of my mind, threatening to   
overwhelm me if I so much as lower my shields a bit. Only here,   
by your side, can I let the tears fall.  
  
And fall they do. It starts as a trickle, then a stream, then   
finally a torrent I don't have the ability to stop. They splash   
onto the sheets, on my hands- one for every sin committed, for   
every life taken, for every act I wish I could take back.  
  
It may be selfish but in a way I'm glad you don't have to see me   
like this. At least you're at peace...  
  
--:--  
  
"Oniichan!"  
  
The tears won't stop. Stupid girly tears. Gritting my teeth, I   
grind my eyes, trying to blink them back. He taught me better   
than this. I have to be calm. To think.  
  
Slowly, I open my eyes again. It's still dark. The blackness   
hasn't changed.   
  
Am I dead? Would I even know?  
  
The fog shifts- a great beast rolling over in its sleep with me   
in its belly. Not knowing what else to do, I start running. Any   
direction. Wherever I end up has to be better than here.  
  
The monster moves again. Still the walls never change. Heavy,   
roiling, smoky- they were invisible, yet palpable. They HURT.  
  
This isn't getting me anywhere. Every direction I look is the   
same. The unending darkness, vague shapes and colors oozing just   
beneath the skin- too abstract for me to make out.  
  
The tears start again.  
  
--:--  
  
I wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my sweater. The one everyone   
seems to hate. It doesn't matter. I've never cared much about the   
way I looked, and now, I care even less.  
  
Youji's always offering to buy me more clothes. If he has his   
way, I'll be strangled in pants so tight, I would tip over just   
from standing. I don't see how he moves in those things.   
  
Movement outside the door catches my eye. Quickly, I turn my head   
hoping to catch a glimpse of the intruder. The tiny window in the   
door shows me nothing. The hallway is empty. With a shrug, I   
resume my lonely vigil.  
  
But I can't shake off the feeling that I'm no longer alone.  
  
--:--  
  
A flash of red tickles the corners of my vision. There! Amidst   
the roiling blackness, a spark of color shines like a beacon. I   
stumble towards it blindly, the color alone giving me the   
strength to keep moving.   
  
As I approach, however, I begin to doubt the strange presence.   
The spark writhes and evolves into a man. He is only a few years   
older than Ran- but his piercing emerald eyes hold the haunted   
stare of one who has seen too much of the world and didn't care   
anymore. Clad in beige trousers and a dark green jacket, his   
fiery hair stands out in sharp contrast to the blackness   
surrounding us, its brightness surpassed only by the wicked   
gleam in his eyes.  
  
I take a step back, unsure. The stranger matches me step for step   
until I feel the darkness behind me. I stop.  
  
After an interminable silence, he speaks.  
  
"Konnichiwa, Aya-chan."  
  
I study the face of the stranger. He is slim, with a cruel mouth   
and piercing eyes; eyes that see into a person's very soul. He   
regards me with a smirk, his arms folded over his chest.  
  
"You've got a lot of people worried about you, you know."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
He paces, as if conversing with me had reduced him to such utter   
boredom he feels the need to do something.  
  
"I don't know what they want with you. I'm just supposed to make   
sure you're still alive."  
  
"Who?"  
  
He laughs. "None of your concern. If all goes well, you'll never   
need to know and if it doesn't, then we'll be dead and it won't   
matter."  
  
"What are you talking about?" This riddler is starting to get   
annoying. Still, somewhere in the back of my mind, I welcome his   
presence- the only thing keeping me from being truly alone.  
  
"And your brother is out here waiting for you."  
  
The spark to ignite a flame. I spring forward, clutching his   
shoulders, shaking him in desperation. "Ran! Where is he? Is he   
all right?"  
  
His body wavers a moment and I release him in shock. Uncertain of   
him, of anything at this point, I back away.  
  
"You two make such an interesting pair. I'll be seeing you again,   
libeling."  
  
With the swiftness of a swooping hawk, he steps forward and   
brushes his lips against mine briefly before waving and   
disappearing into the blackness.  
  
I stand there, stunned for a moment, the warmth of his kiss still   
lingering on my mouth.   
  
"Wait!" I cry, running out into the darkness. "Who are you?"  
  
The name echoes in my mind- the last words I would hear for a   
very long time.  
  
"Schuldich..."  
  
The beast engulfs me once more.  
  
--:--  
  
Something happened- what, I don't know. For a moment, there was   
movement beneath those pale lids. Now, nothing. Was I foolish to   
even hope?  
  
I stand abruptly, tipping over the chair, to hover over you. The   
monitors are steady, unchanging. Maybe it had been my   
imagination.   
  
My body relaxes. It's time to go. We have another mission   
tonight- and I can't be late. My face is impassive. I don't know   
how much longer I can keep this up. Day after day, night after   
night. It never ends. But it's worth it if only to see you smile   
again.  
  
My fingertips brush your face gently and I steal one last glance.   
Tomorrow, I will return. You won't be alone. I step into the   
hallway, an invisible weight settling on my shoulders almost   
immediately. It is time to be Aya again.  
  
A familiar figure catches my attention. It's him!  
  
Recognition spurs me into motion and I reach for my absent sword.   
Adrenalin floods my veins as I stand there awkwardly, waiting for   
him to make a move. I am unarmed. With a knowing smirk, he leans   
against the white walls, my thoughts an open book for him to   
read. After a few tense moments, I relax. If he had meant to   
attack, his far superior speed would have taken me down by now.   
Grudgingly, I lower my arms, my eyes never leaving his.  
  
"You."  
  
He moves from the wall with feline grace, his sinewy body fluid   
as he alters his stance lightly.   
  
"Afternoon, Abyssinian."  
  
"What are you-"  
  
"She's still alive, you know."  
  
Though nothing should surprise me by now, knowing this man, I   
still feel a sharp intake of breath at his words. My heartbeat   
races and my hands turn to ice. And through it all, he registers   
my faint movements with a slight shake of his head, fiery fringe   
framing his face. He is laughing.  
  
"You bastard."  
  
"I'm not the one who decided to seek revenge against those who   
did this."  
  
"You're one of them!"  
  
"Am I?"  
  
The simple question gives me pause. He had been there, watching,   
the day my life had been ripped apart. And since then, he had   
hovered over me- always at the edges of my consciousness, his   
voice whispering to me in dreams. That he was here now, before   
me, his solid presence no more than a foot away, chills and   
burns me all at once.  
  
"Why are you in this, Fujimiya?"  
  
Why did I choose to be an assassin? To avenge the death of my   
family? My sister?  
  
"She's not dead."  
  
Okay, maybe she's not but still-  
  
"I wonder if your lips taste the same as hers?"  
  
WHAT?  
  
There is no time to move- no time to react. Between one instant   
and the next, the German crosses the space between us. A shadow   
falls over me, suffocating me, and a warm mouth slowly steals the   
breath from my lungs. I can't think- can't breathe. My legs   
refuse to hold me, forcing my hands to clutch his shoulders   
for support.  
  
All too soon, the stifling pressure wrenches away and I'm reeling   
towards the wall, gasping for air. An all too familiar sensation   
wells up in me as the subject of my rage studies me from across   
the hall.  
  
"Go to hell."  
  
He laughs at the empty threat. He knows. He knows me almost   
better than I know myself. My thoughts, my motivations, my   
dreams- they are all laid bare before his probing mind; and have   
been since the first day we met.  
  
And even though I hate him with every fiber in my body, I also   
know that he is the only one who truly understands. For in a way,   
he was the one who led me to this life. By allowing me to live   
that day, he had given me the chance- to become the monster I am   
now.  
  
He nods once, confirming my scattered thoughts. "I told you once,   
you'd have to live with the guilt that you were the only one left   
alive. You were younger then, more naïve. Now, your thoughts   
taste like blood. I have to wonder- who are you now, Ran?"  
  
I have no answer. The anger bleeds out of me, leaving me an empty   
shell. I want him to leave me alone. I want him to stay. I want   
him to kill me and get this over with.  
  
His eyes unreadable, he stalks towards me, taking my chin roughly   
in one hand. "It is not your time, white hunter. You still have   
many more lives to extinguish; more lies to live. Why should I   
end it now?"  
  
And just like that, he is gone. A bare whisper against the empty   
halls.   
  
I'm tempted to run after him. Even though I know he'll have a gun   
pointed at my head and his power wrapped around my mind before I   
can blink, I don't care. Even if I die within seconds of seeing   
him, it doesn't matter. My entire being screams at me to follow.  
  
But I stand my ground. It is all I deserve after all. He had   
summed it up that day- that fateful day that had killed my   
parents, put my sister in a coma, and turned me into a cold-  
hearted murderer. It is my fate. My punishment.   
  
The cross I bear- the sin of surviving.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
ENDE  
  
Notes: I don't expect anyone to understand, much less like this   
piece. My only excuse for writing it is that- well, it just had   
to be written. Reactions are always welcome. tsukinouta@yahoo.com  
  
Thanks to Aya for the translations of the manga on which this   
story is based. Visit his site at   
http://members.nbci.com/FujimiyaAya  
  
And huge hugs to my dear imoutos- Quicksilver and Sidara- for the   
betas; and to Gerald, Ari, Lyra, and Stormy for keeping me from   
trashing this thing outright. *glomp*  
  
Disclaimer: All original materials belong to their respective   
owners. Weiß Kreuz is © to Koyasu Takehito & Project Weiß. No   
copyright infringement is intended. The story is mine and I would   
appreciate you emailing me for permission before posting it   
anywhere else.   
  
Copyright © October 17, 2000 by Moonsong. All Rights Reserved.  



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